Falling and Laughing
by Nemi Almasy
Summary: Takes place 18 months after the events of the game. Seifer Almasy has been living on the streets of Dollet surviving on a steady intake of alcohol. When he faces the choice of sobriety or hard time in prison, he must learn to connect with the people he once hated the most, and find a way to reconcile who he was with who he's become. (Seifstis) Rated mostly for language.
1. At the Bottom

It was nearly midnight and Seifer Almasy was sitting in a tattered plaid chair with a woman on top of his lap, grinding against him, one of his hands on her bottom while the other held a half-empty bottle of whisky. The blinds had been shut and the only light in the room came from the dim glow of a television playing late-night infomercials. The TV was turned down but not muted so that above the noise of the woman's lips sucking on his neck Seifer could hear a loud-mouthed salesman peddling an exclusive new way to revolutionize your scrambled eggs.

He took a swig from his bottle of whisky and pushed the woman's jacket off of her shoulders, revealing her brassiere. It was ill fitting and she was nearly coming out of it. Love handles gently spilled over the tight edges of her lacy panties and fishnet stockings. She continued to grind emotionlessly against Seifer's lap, sucking so hard on his neck that he knew it would leave a love-bite. He felt only mildly aroused.

Outside the clock tower chimed twelve times.

"You gonna get hard or what?" the woman broke her mouth away from Seifer's skin and stared at him.

Her face was scarred from compulsive picking that comes with prolonged drug use and her hair was coarse and matted. Seifer contemplated her question and took another swig from the bottle of whisky.

"I don't know, are you gonna do anything besides grind your ass on my jeans and pummel my neck?"

"What are you sayin'? Are you sayin' you aren't enjoying this?"

Seifer leaned back against the couch and unzipped his pants. "I'm saying maybe you should try something different."

The woman smiled, revealing several missing teeth. Her hand slid down his stomach beneath the fabric of his boxers and moved slowly. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes and for a fleeting second his muddled brain allowed him the imagination that Rinoa Heartilly was the one sitting on top of him. He could almost see her there, her long, beautiful black hair draped around her perfect round face; her pink, plump lips against his own.

But in a moment the illusion was gone and his eyes were open again, watching with a mixture of apathy and disgust as the woman he was with moved down between his legs to replace her hand with her mouth.

He watched the television without interest as the loud-mouthed salesman showed the eggs he had prepared with his miracle egg-cooking device. He could really go for some eggs and there was that twenty-four hour diner just up the road. If he could just hurry up and cum already he could get there in ten minutes.

His eyes closed and he tried again to imagine Rinoa and the summer they had spent together. The summer he had lost his virginity and fallen in love. He had no illusions of Rinoa harboring any warm feelings for him now. He had fucked that up royally long ago and had made no efforts to fix his mistakes since then. Now he was left with the sad memory of a girl he used to love to help him get off on lonely nights with meth-addicted hookers. This had not been how he imagined his life going.

Just as he felt he was on the edge of satisfaction, close enough to push himself over, the door burst open, letting in a harsh stream of fluorescent light around the outline of a woman with thick wiry hair. Seifer blinked and pushed the hooker off of him.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing, Seifer?" The wiry-haired woman stepped out of the light and into the hotel room. "What the _fuck_ is going on here? You bitch, what exactly are you doing with _my man?_"

"Hyne, Maria, how'd you find me?" Seifer scrambled backwards and fell onto a nightstand that easily shattered beneath his weight.

Maria was not listening. She had grabbed the hooker by the hair and was raking her nails across the half-naked woman's face. "You think you can fuck with my man? You got another thing coming!"

The hooker shrieked and clamped her teeth on Maria's hand. A catfight quickly ensued. Seifer struggled to his feet, swaying in his inebriated state. He downed the rest of his whiskey, tossed the bottle on the floor, and staggered across the room. He was close to the door when a hand clamped on his ankle and brought him sprawling down face-first.

"Don't you walk out on me you cheating bastard!" Maria screamed, clawing her way across his back to his face.

He quickly shielded himself from her long nails "What the hell, Maria? We broke up three weeks ago."

"_You_ do not break up with Maria. _Maria_ breaks up with you. And we are over! Do you hear me? You cheating piece of shit!" She ripped one of her shoes off and stabbed him in the shoulder with the sharp heel. He let out an exclamation of pain. When she wrenched it out, his shirt blossomed with blood.

Maria stood up slowly and put her shoe back on before walking out the door like nothing had ever happened. The hooker was lying in a small pool of blood sobbing loudly near the television, but Seifer had no interest in helping her. Rather, he was in a hurry to get out of the place just as soon as he was sure Maria was gone.

He waited by the open door for a while, peering out into the fluorescent-lit hallway and listening to the sounds of the hourly room renters making good use of their money. When he felt sure it was safe, he quietly slunk away from the room and down the stairs to the main entrance.

A lonely attendant was sleeping with his head propped up by his hand and took no notice as Seifer moved past him, out the door and into the city of Dollet.

Outside the air was brisk and refreshing and Seifer might have enjoyed it if not for the throbbing pain in his shoulder where he'd been stabbed. He'd had worse, though, and there was no reason to go to the emergency room when he knew they'd make him stay for detox. The better option was a quick dip in the fountain at the town center to clean the wound. His late night diner eggs would have to wait.

It wasn't far to the town center from where he was, but with the pain from his stab wound and an old injury in his leg hindering him, the walk was slow going. He kept his eyes peeled for any signs of his crazy ex-girlfriend. If he hadn't pawned Hyperion off for some booze money he would have been fine, but now all he had was a tiny little blunt dagger that wouldn't hold a candle to Maria's heels. Something told him he wouldn't run into her again that night.

Seifer's leg protested as he walked. He tended to hop onto trains or buses to get around the city these days and hadn't walked any great distance in a while. This was obvious by one look at the small gut hanging over his pants or how his shirt stretched at the seams to accommodate his growth. He knew if he lost some weight and ever had the money for the surgery he needed he wouldn't have pain in his leg anymore, but that also felt as impossible as becoming a SeeD.

By the time he reached the town center, his leg hurt nearly as much as his shoulder and both were screaming in pain. This late at night, the circular center of the city was quiet and empty and the only light came from the twenty-four hour diner across the way, its neon sign buzzing in the night. A fountain at the center of the circle flowed and bubbled placidly, filled with coins despite the sign strictly prohibiting them.

Seifer sat on the edge of the fountain and rubbed his aching thigh before he began to undress. First he kicked his off his boots, caked with mud and with holes wearing into the soles, then he peeled off his filthy stinking socks and wadded them inside of the boots. He shimmied out of his pants and underwear, which had grown too tight and left a lasting red mark on his hips. His beige trench coat he draped against the fountain, letting the bloodied end float in the frigid water in hopes it might resolve some of the stain. Finally, he peeled off his tattered tanktop and tossed it in the water before jumping in after it.

The water was ice cold and knocked all the breath out of him and for a moment he sat with only his head above it gasping, teeth chattering. After a few minutes, his body adjusted to the cold and he dunked his head under. When he surfaced, he was surrounded by brown, clouded water dissolving out in tendrils to the edges of the fountain. He tried to remember the last time he had bathed.

His stab wound stung at first contact, but the water was soothing it and taking the inflammation from his injured leg. He swam around the fountain and began to hum an old song he remembered learning long ago when he had lived by the sea with his foster parents. Edea used to sing it to him and when he closed his eyes he could see her smiling face as she leaned over him to brush away his tears.

"Seifer," she said softly. "Don't cry, little one. Everything will be okay."

She was the closest thing he ever had to a mother.

He opened his eyes and he was back in the fountain: freezing, wet, and drunk. He scrubbed his skin raw and sat on the edge of the fountain with just his feet dangling in the water. The door jangled on the diner and a young couple exited. They stopped to stare at Seifer and he stared back, oblivious to his nudity.

"C-come on, Ness," The man said, drawing his lover closer, "Let's get out of here."

She tore her disgusted eyes away from Seifer and hurried along with her boyfriend. Seifer curled his lip and spat in their direction, but he was too drunk to even spit properly and he wound up dribbling saliva down his chin.

"Fuck you too, pal!" He slurred.

He rose up and snatched his shirt and trench coat from the water, placing them gently on the ground to dry. He was in the process of grabbing his underwear when a loud voice sounded from the edge of the circle.

"Put your hands up. This is the police." A small cluster of men and women were gathered around the opening to the town center.

"Fuck me," Seifer groaned. He dropped his underwear and lifted his hands. It had only been two weeks since his last brush with the law and the bruise on his ribs that he'd earned himself during his struggle was just finally fading away. After the night he'd had, he wasn't up for getting stabbed again.

The police approached him with guns raised, "It's Almasy," one of them called back to the others.

An officer in the back of the group spoke into a walkie talkie, "This is officer Gentry, please be advised we may need back up. Suspect at town center is Seifer Almasy."

"C'mon, man!" Seifer shouted. "I'm not gonna fight you."

"You have the right to remain silent and I suggest you use it, Seifer," the officer nearest him spoke.

"All right, all right, just let me…" before he could finish his sentence, a burly officer with a thick mustache had shoved him to his knees, knocking his head against the cement fountain in the process. He felt blood trickling down his forehead. "WHAT THE FUCK MAN?"

"Shut up, Almasy," the man with the mustache replied. He pulled a set of handcuffs from his belt and locked Seifer's hands behind his back.

"C'mon, Fragey, can't I at least put some clothes on?"

Officer Fragey snorted in derision. "Get him a towel to cover up. Now!"

The officers behind him scrambled to find something Seifer could cover himself with. One of the female officers procured a thick woolen poncho from her rucksack.

"That thing? I'll look fuckin' ridiculous," Seifer spat.

"Hate to break it you, sweetheart, but you already do," Fragey replied. He shoved the poncho over Seifer's head and for a moment it got stuck and Seifer couldn't breathe, nor could he claw his way out of it. He struggled for a moment before his head came free in the opening. The wool made his skin itch.

"This is the last straw, Seifer!" Fragey shouted. "We're not letting you out in the morning when you're sober. You're costing this department way too much money using us like a goddamned hotel. You want out in the morning you better post some fucking bail like the criminal you are."

"C'moooon, Fragey! You know I don't have the money for bail."

"Oh? But you had the money for booze, didn't you?"

"Hey, fuck you, man!" Seifer struggled as Fragey pulled him to his feet, but he was no match for the muscular officer in his state. Fragey shoved him forward into the back of a waiting squad car, knocking his head once again against the roof of the car.

By now, Seifer's head was pounding, his stab wound was still aching, and as the cold wore off of his leg, it too was protesting at the efforts it had been put through that night. If not for the bail, he was almost looking forward to a night in jail because it meant a bed more comfortable than the street, in a heated cell with a blanket and a warm meal.

He could always figure out the whole bail thing later. Or just stay in jail. That seemed superior to being homeless for the foreseeable future.

Dollet County Jail was a familiar place for Seifer; a home away from non-home, as it were. When he arrived, it was to exasperated looks from regular night shift cops who recognized him from plenty of run-ins before. For the second time that night, harsh fluorescent lights bombarded his eyes.

At the main desk, they stopped for a moment in front of Officer Ramirez, a skinny brunette with no breasts who almost always ran the desk on night-shift.

"Almasy again, hm?" Ramirez asked.

Fragey groaned as an affirmation. "Junot, file a report with Ramirez while I take Almasy to his cell."

Another officer stepped forward to file the report and Fragey grabbed Seifer by the neck, shoving him down a narrow hallway toward the cells. They passed through a secured iron door with Fragey's access key and found themselves in a room with five cells. Two of them were empty and the others were filled with sleeping inmates.

There was a phone booth on the wall by the door and Fragey picked up the phone. "You get one call, Almasy, so you better use it well, 'cause otherwise I'm gonna make sure your ass ends up in D-district."

He handed the phone to Seifer, who took it reluctantly. He hadn't considered that they would actually try him and transfer him if he couldn't make bail. How likely was it he would actually see the inside of D-district though? That was a place for high-profile political prisoners, not drunks charged with public indecency or urinating on public property. It still wasn't worth testing Fragey's determination to get rid of Seifer. He had been a blight on Dollet for the past year and a half.

So who to call? Raijin and Fujin were out of the question. They had been Seifer's closest friends and at the end, his only friends. They had stuck with him when the rest of the world turned on him. He owed them everything and instead of paying them back he had run away and stopped returning their calls. If he called them now, he knew they would come, because that's the kind of friends they were, but he wasn't going to let them know what a mess he had become. He couldn't stand that embarrassment.

Cid and Edea also weren't an option. They had, for all intents and purposes, raised him and then trained him and he had failed them so many times along the way. He could never become a SeeD and he had failed to protect Edea. This would be one more failure for them to see. Besides, he had turned away Cid's help when he had first left Balamb; he couldn't go begging for it now.

Those were his only options that seemed likely to help him if he called. The only people he had ever felt friendly towards. Of course, there were less appealing options. "Options" was maybe even too strong a word: perhaps possibilities. Dincht was absolutely off the table. He would have rather offed himself than to see Dincth's smug face when he saw what Seifer had become. Squall was also an unappealing choice given that the most likely response to Squall Leonhart receiving a call from Seifer Almasy at two in the fucking morning was a quick hangup. Quistis wasn't on either. She would be too self-righteous about it and he didn't need her whiny shit.

This left him one potential choice. He dialed with clumsy, shaking hands, mashing his fingers against the buttons. He wasn't even sure if the number was still in service and with his mind clouded by alcohol he wasn't entirely sure it was even the right number.

It rang seven times before the other end finally picked up and a drowsy voice answered questioningly.

"Rinoa? It's Seifer. I, uh….need a favor."

* * *

A/N: Hopefully enjoyable first chapter. I'll try to update regularly. Reviews are appreciated


	2. One Small Favor

Quistis Trepe was fighting sleep as she sat a conference table listening to Xu give a speech about appropriate use of magic on the battlefield. It was meant to be an informational session that would help the instructors teach the information to their students, but as efficient a SeeD as Xu was, she was not a teacher. Her meetings were always dry and rigid, just as you would expect a hardened soldier's meetings to be.

To her left, Zell Dincht sat twiddling his thumbs, his bleach-blonde Mohawk flopping slightly to one side. He had arrived late to the meeting and hadn't had time to properly style his trademark hair. He clacked his nails against the polished wooden surface of the conference table until Xu turned sharply to face him and pursed her lips. He quickly folded his hands in his lap and the petite brunette to his left snickered.

"Something you'd like to share with everyone, Selphie?" Xu snapped.

The brunette sat up straight. "No, Xu. Sorry."

Quistis sighed. It felt like being a cadet again, only less fun. Across the table, the seat normally reserved for Squall, head commander of the SeeDs, was noticeably empty. It wasn't like Squall to miss meetings. Despite how much Rinoa had changed him for the better, he was still a product of a military upbringing and he followed his schedules rigidly.

Zell followed Quistis' gaze to the empty chair next to Xu.

"You seen Squall today?"

Quistis shook her head and spoke softly. "I came straight from my apartment. I wonder if he's sick. He doesn't usually miss meetings."

"Irvine said he saw him and Rinoa leaving at like three in the morning."

Selphie was listening in and she bristled noticeably at the mention of Irvine. Quistis frowned at Zell.

"What? I can't even say his name now? Geez, Selph."

She stuck her nose up and folded her arms over her chest. "I don't know what you're talking about. I wasn't even listening."

Zell sighed and rolled his eyes. "Anyway, you-know-who said he saw Squall and Rinoa this morning heading for the garage."

"What were they doing leaving Garden at that hour?"

"AHEM," Xu cleared her throat loudly. The rest of the room turned to stare at Quistis and Zell. "Should I give the floor to you or may I continue?"

"Sorry," Zell muttered. "It was my fault."

"I don't doubt it," Xu turned back to her presentation.

Quistis was wildly curious about why Squall and Rinoa would have left Garden without notice at three in the morning. Rinoa was certainly more impulsive than Squall, but they had settled into a life of semi-domesticity and something that impulsive was out of the norm. She wanted to press Zell about it, but she didn't want to get snapped at by Xu again. She was lucky she had been given a teaching position again after her first failure; she didn't need to do anything to compromise it.

The meeting mercifully ended fifteen minutes later and everyone hurried out of the room except Nida, who stayed behind to kiss Xu's ass with the goal of a promotion, as usual. Selphie darted ahead of them; probably worried they would seek out Irvine for more information. She had not been handling the breakup well.

"So did Irvine say anything else?" Quistis pried.

Zell shrugged. "He didn't follow them. He was with some girl at the training center."

Quistis sneered. "Already? They haven't been broken up that long."

"You know Irvine," Zell passed over the statement. "I tried calling Squall's cell, but he's not picking up. I wonder what they could have left for."

"Maybe Rinoa's father is ill," Quistis suggested.

"Yeah, maybe, but doubtful. You know how Rinoa is with her dad. I don't know if she'd even turn out for his funeral. I think it's gotta be something else."

"I guess we'll have to wait until they get back. No sense sitting around wasting time wondering, is there? You have a class to teach in half an hour."

"Thanks for keeping me on task, _instructor_," Zell curled his lip. "I'm going to see Layla before class. Let me know if you hear anything about Squall and Rinoa!" He tapped Quistis' shoulder in what he thought was a gentle fashion, but Zell often underestimated his own strength. Quistis stumbled forward and righted herself before she could fall.

She didn't have any classes to teach on Tuesdays and she hadn't scheduled any meetings besides the one she'd just left, so Quistis found herself full of curiosity and a full day to kill. She briefly considered looking for Irvine, but Zell had admitted that the sharpshooting cowboy probably didn't know much more about it than they did at this point. Perhaps blowing off some steam in the training center would do her some good. She'd been busy training to be an instructor again and had been neglecting any actual frontline battling.

With her mind made up, she headed for her apartment amongst the cadet dormitories to change into her training gear and grab her chain whip, Save the Queen, for a nice long session in the training center.

* * *

"Almasy, get up," Fragey was knocking his nightstick on the bars of Seifer's cell to wake him.

He had been passed out since they'd thrown him in after his phone call the night before. Now he was up with a start. He sat straight up, grabbed his head, and vomited on the floor beside his bed. His head felt like someone had stuck it in a vice, his heart pounding in his ears. Beneath the pain of his hangover his wounds ached worse than the day before.

"Fuck me," he groaned. "I feel like death."

"You've got visitors," Fragey said with a mixture of surprise and annoyance.

Seifer looked up and tried to remember what stupid decision he had made the previous night. The answer was immediately clear.

Standing in front of the cell, short of stature at only five feet and eight inches, but fearsome nonetheless, was Squall Leonhart. He still wore his characteristic leather jacket with the feathered collar. His gunblade hung at his hip and his arms were crossed tightly over his chest, his stormy grey eyes trained on Seifer. Next to him stood Rinoa Heartilly, as beautiful as Seifer remembered, maybe even more beautiful for being in love.

"Look at you," Squall spat. "This is pathetic, Seifer."

Seifer struggled to stand up, but his bad leg gave way beneath his weight and he fell to his knees, narrowly avoiding slamming his face into the hard iron bars of the cell door.

"What are you doing here?" he croaked.

"You called Rinoa last night. Or do you not remember?"

He vaguely remembered thinking it was a decent idea to call Rinoa for bail money. At the time he must have conveniently forgotten she was probably still with Squall.

"So what are _you_ doing here?" Seifer said again.

Squall squatted down to Seifer's line of vision. "Do you honestly think I'm going to let my fiancée come all the way to Dollet to see a _known_ traitor to Garden under the supposed guise of posting bail for him? Why the hell do you think I would trust you that much? I don't trust you _at all_. And for good reason," he scoffed.

"Well I didn't _ask_ you to come and post bail for me, _commander_." Seifer tried to sound threatening, but he wound up retching again, which ruined the effect.

"I came to see for myself if you were really in jail. I didn't say we would post bail."

"Oh, Squall, please," Rinoa said. She placed her hand gently on Squall's arm. "We can't leave him here."

"Forget it," Seifer growled. "I don't need your fucking pity. If you just came here to feel bad for me just fucking forget it. I'll figure it out myself."

Rinoa frowned. "Have you even got any money, Seifer?"

"Fuck off. Who cares?"

"Anywhere to stay?"

"You wasted a trip here. You should have hung up on me," he slumped against the cool concrete floor and grabbed his throbbing head.

"Listen, you worthless sack of shit," Squall reached through the bars and grabbed Seifer by the neck. "If it weren't for Rinoa you wouldn't have anyone here to bail your sorry ass out so stop being such a prick and be thankful you even have one person willing to reach out to you." He dropped him and backed away from the cell.

Rinoa knelt down and peered in at Seifer in his sorry state. "Listen, Seifer. We'll post your bail, but only under one condition. You have to come back with us to Balamb. Cid might not let you into Garden, but we could get you a nice cozy place to stay and maybe get you clean and back on your feet. I hate to see you like this. You can do so much better. But we can't force you to take the offer, you know. I won't accept a compromise. Either we walk away from here and leave you to figure this out on your own or you come back with us and try to fix yourself up."

Seifer shook his head. "I can't go back to Balamb. I'm an outcast there."

"You could have a chance to redeem yourself," Rinoa suggested.

He continued to shake his head. "Cid and Edea would have to see me like this…I couldn't. I…" he leaned forward and threw up again.

"Why even give him the choice?" Squall grumbled. "He won't go willingly."

"It's important that he makes the decision on his own," Rinoa replied. "Come on, Seifer. What's it going to be?"

"If he's not on campus he'll just run back to Galbadia first chance he gets," Squall said. "We'd have to convince Cid to let him stay on campus until he's at least sober."

"Cid might not go for it," Rinoa bit her lip. "I don't think he'd allocate an entire apartment for a non-SeeD castout. But maybe…"

"What?" Squall leaned forward.

Seifer listened to them discussing his own fate as though he weren't lying there next to a pool of his own vomit. Admittedly, he did need the help. The idea of giving up alcohol was incredibly unappealing, but so was the idea of being thrown into D-district prison or back onto the streets to get stabbed by a stiletto again.

"Well, it's just that Quistis has that extra room after Truda transferred to Galbadia Garden. If she was willing…I mean, she has the most open schedule of any of us too. Maybe we could talk to her about helping out with this?"

Squall laughed unexpectedly. "Yeah. Because Quistis always kept such a good handle on Seifer when he was her student."

"It's different though. Isn't it? Seifer, what if you stayed with Quistis for a while? She's got a spare bed and I'm sure she'd share her food with you."

"Trepe? Yeah, that sounds appealing," Seifer rolled his eyes. "Nothing like living with a frigid ice queen to sober you up."

Rinoa pursed her lips. "Let's see what Quistis says."

* * *

Quistis had just stepped out of the training center to get some water and rest for a few minutes when her cell phone began to ring. She fished it from her pocket and flipped it open without checking the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Quistis? It's Squall."

"Hey, where are you? Irvine told Zell he saw you and Rinoa leaving Garden at three in the morning. Is everything okay?"

Squall sighed. "Not exactly. We're in Dollet."

Quistis' eyebrows furrowed, "Dollet? Why Dollet?"

"Uh…Rinoa got an…interesting call last night from an old friend. You want to say hi to Quistis?"

"Fuck off," She heard Seifer Almasy's muffled voice sound on the other end.

"_Seifer?_" It had been a long time since she'd heard that voice.

"It's kind of a long story. Well, maybe not. He's in jail for getting drunk in public one too many times. He needs bail so he called Rinoa. Rinoa won't post him bail unless he agrees to come back to Garden and get clean."

"Hyne," Quistis swore. "Does Cid know?"

"No, and that's the thing. If he's really going to get clean, we'd need him to stay on campus. Have someone that could keep an eye on him and help him through the process. Cid will never go for Seifer getting his own apartment and definitely not for having a dorm with a cadet. But then Rinoa and I thought, you know, you have a spare bedroom…"

"Oh absolutely not!" Quistis shouted. "No way. I am not taking that…that insufferable…there's no way. What makes you think_ I'd_ be suitable to help him anyway? You know how well we got on when I was his instructor and that wasn't nearly as serious as trying to get someone _sober_. Hyne, Squall, what are you thinking?""

"Quistis," Rinoa had snatched the phone from Squall. "If you were here you'd agree to this. He's…look it's really bad. You wouldn't even have to take him on permanently you know. Just long enough for us to convince Cid to let him stay and get clean. You know, rehabilitate. He hasn't even agreed to it himself, but if he does, wouldn't you at least give it a shot?"

The idea of letting Seifer Almasy sleep in the same apartment as her was repugnant. She couldn't stand the man when he was sober, she couldn't imagine him as a drunk. Besides that, he had made his dislike of the entire Garden fairly clear when he betrayed everyone to join the sorceress. Even if he had been defeated, she wasn't entirely sure she believed he wouldn't try to gut her in her sleep. Bringing Seifer back to Garden seemed like the worst idea she'd ever heard.

"Please, Quistis?" Rinoa pleaded.

It was hard to say no to Rinoa. She was so kind-hearted. Only Rinoa would be willing to take another chance on someone like Seifer Almasy.

"I'll try it out," Quistis sighed in exasperation. "But if I think for one second that it's not going to work out, you better have a backup plan."

"Thank you so much, Quistis. We'll keep you updated okay?"

The line went dead and Quistis pocketed her phone. She sat on a bench in the hallway leading to the training center and thought about what she had just agreed to. Helping Seifer Almasy get sober was going to be a thousand times harder than being an instructor, and she could barely manage that.

Defeating an evil sorceress seemed like a walk in the park in comparison.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for the reviews. Here's some more. Enjoy!


	3. Wash it Away

Quistis took a sweep of her apartment one last time before heading out to the lobby. It was pristine, as usual, but she had made sure that the spare bedroom was especially presentable. Why she took the time to tidy it so well was beyond her. It wasn't as if Seifer would appreciate it in any way. He would probably just make a mess of it straight away.

She had given all her liquor, which was only a half empty handle of vodka, to Irvine, who she knew would put it to good use. The apartment was clean and alcohol-free, but she hoped an alternative would arise quickly enough that she wouldn't have to worry about Seifer for too long.

Squall had told her to meet them in the lobby. Seifer had agreed to their terms, probably because it was more appealing than staying in jail for the foreseeable future. Rinoa had warned her that it wasn't going to be pretty seeing Seifer in his current state, but she had coolly replied that it had never been pretty dealing with Seifer.

The lobby was relatively empty that morning. Classes were in session and only a few Garden staff members and guards roamed the hallways. Quistis had a class to teach at noon, but she still had a few hours to deal with the problem at hand.

"Quistis!" Rinoa's voice sounded from Garden's entrance. Quistis quickly looked up in time to see Rinoa rocketing forward to greet her with a hug.

"Hey, Rinoa," Quistis patted her back awkwardly. "Where's Squall and Seifer?"

"They're coming. I ran ahead. Look I know I told you it's bad, but…It's _really_ bad, Quistis. I just want you to be prepared, okay?"

"I'm sure I'll be fine," Quistis assured her.

"Here they come now," Rinoa waved as Squall came into view, dragging Seifer behind him.

Despite Rinoa's warning, Quistis was still taken aback at the sight of the once proud Seifer Almasy limping along behind Squall. His face was covered in a thin layer of blonde stubble, his clothing was tattered and soiled, his face that had once been marked only by a diagonal scar given to him by Squall was now marred with cuts and bruises and a new scar on his cheek. Hyperion was absent from his hip, traded or sold to Hyne knew who. He had a small, but noticeable gut hanging over his pants and stretching his shirt at the seams. And then there was the pronounced limp, the shifting of his weight onto his right leg to avoid the pain. He was a shell of his former self. No longer strong and intimidating. Just sad.

Squall and Seifer reached Quistis and Rinoa and came to a halt.

"Here's the prisoner," Squall shoved Seifer forward.

"Seifer." Quistis said shortly.

He wouldn't meet her gaze. "I need a drink," he replied.

Quistis looked to Squall and Squall shook his head. "I never said it was going to be easy. Why don't you take him back to your apartment and get him settled in? I'm going to see if Irvine has any spare clothes he could loan us."

"Yeah, I'm itching to try on some ass-less chaps and a cowboy hat," Seifer spat.

"Fine, you can keep wearing your filthy clothes until they rip to shreds," Squall growled.

"_Children_," Rinoa interjected. "Come on, Squall. We'll go see Irvine. Call us if you need any help, Quistis."

When they were out of sight, Seifer slumped down onto the nearby bench. "Look, neither of us want to deal with this so why don't you just let me slip out of here and say I overpowered you when Squall and Rinoa come around asking and I can just head back to Galbadia and we can put this all behind us?"

The idea of him overpowering her with his tubby physique and no weapon to speak of was laughable. Before Seifer could register what was happening she had drawn out her whip and wrapped it around his neck.

"You listen to me, Seifer. I don't like you. I don't want to do this any more than you do. But Squall and Rinoa are my friends and Rinoa at least is counting on me to do what's right. So we're going to go back to my apartment and you're going to shower and change into some clean clothes because I'm not letting you sit on anything with those clothes on. Then you are going to stay in my apartment for the rest of the day and I'm going to lock you in so you can't run off. And until we hear from Cid, that's how every day is going to go. Do I make myself clear?"

"Hyne, Trepe, I didn't know you were into S&M, but I should have guessed with the whip and all."

This earned him a sock in the mouth.

"Get up," Quistis spat. "We're going."

As much as he would have loved to crack another joke, Quistis' whip had barbs on it and he had just felt them digging into his neck. He wasn't keen on finding out what they felt like lashing against his skin. He struggled to his feet and followed her begrudgingly through Garden to the dormitories.

It was strange for him to be back in the place that had been his home for so many years. Not much had changed, but it still felt different. But the smells and the sounds were the same and it hit him with a wave of nostalgia. For just a moment he was sixteen again and patrolling the halls with Raijin and Fujin, confident that soon he would be a SeeD.

But that was another life and another man. He would never be a SeeD now. He couldn't hope to be much. And he was stuck doing forced rehab with a woman he couldn't stand that had a mutual hatred for him. He still wasn't sure this was preferable to life in prison.

"What happened to your leg?" Quistis spoke as they made the slow walk to her apartment.

Seifer reeled. "What happened to my leg? Are you kidding me? _Squall_ happened to my leg. Or do you not remember participating in my complete annihilation almost two years ago? He tore tendons with his piece of shit gunblade. It never healed right."

"If you're looking for sympathy or an apology you can forget it. We did what we had to do to save this world from the sorceress. You picked the wrong side. You're really good at being contrary just for the sake of it."

"Yeah," Seifer rolled his eyes. "I just decided to become a sorceress' knight because I thought 'Damn, what would Quistis Trepe do? Let me make sure I do the opposite.' I don't have my own personal aspirations except to piss you and your little dweeb friends off as often as possible. That's why we had to battle each other."

"Your sarcasm is noted, but not appreciated," Quistis pursed her lips. "I'm giving you a place to stay and food to eat. You don't have to be an asshole."

"I didn't ask you to give me shit. It's not my fault Squall saddled you with me. I just thought this sounded slightly better than going to prison."

"Hopefully Cid will make a fast decision about you and you can be out of my hair," Quistis muttered. "I was wondering where all the stress in my life had gone, but now I realize it was you."

"Still failing miserably at being a leader?" Seifer lashed at her. "Looks like Squall's in charge of the SeeDs. He outranks you and Xu. I'll bet Xu just loved having him appointed to commander. And I'm sure it was great to see your own student surpass you in skills."

"That's actually the mark of a good instructor," Quistis replied cooly. "I'm proud of Squall. And so was Xu. Not everyone gets angry and jealous when others do better than them."

Seifer didn't have anything biting to reply with, so he was silent the rest of the way to her apartment. They passed through the hall to the dormitories and on to her building, nestled between a set of cadet dorms. Her apartment was on the third floor and the climb agitated Seifer's leg. By that point his head was absolutely pounding from withdrawal and his whole body ached.

The inside of Quistis Trepe's apartment looked exactly like Seifer imagined it would: pristine from top to bottom, not a single thing crooked or out of place. A magazine sat on the polished glass coffee table perfectly perpendicular to the long edge, pictures hung evenly spaced and straight as an arrow on the wall. The whole apartment smelled faintly of artificial lavender, emanating from a small plug-in scent dispenser near the door to Quistis' room (firmly shut to keep out his prying eyes).

"I have some of Nida's old clothes," Quistis muttered, straightening a picture that didn't need fixing as she crossed the room to an open door leading to her spare room.

The room had previously been occupied by her housemate, Truda, but was recently vacated when Truda transferred to Galbadia Garden to instruct cadets there after a somewhat unpleasant breakup with their fellow SeeD, Nida.

"You and Nida shacking up?" Seifer laughed at the thought. Nida was an ass-kisser and Quistis didn't hold much rank. He wouldn't have wasted his time with her.

"My old roommate used to date him. He left some of his stuff and she never bothered to give it back. It will probably be a little tight on you," she frowned at Seifer's gut. It was an understatement, to say the least. The clothes that would fit Nida's slim figure would be close to bursting on Seifer, but he needed clean clothes of some sort.

Quistis disappeared into the spare room and returned with a pair of boxer shorts, some sweatpants Nida had used for workouts, and a t-shirt that she could already tell was too small.

"This is all I have that might fit you," she shoved it into Seifer's hands. He stared down at it unhappily. "The bathroom is over here," Quistis continued.

Seifer followed her to a room on the far right side of the apartment. The bathroom was tiny and cramped with a small clawfoot tub and shower, a toilet crammed next to a sink, all set against a backsplash of ugly black and white tile.

"Man they really treat you SeeDs to fancy living, eh?" Seifer chuckled.

Quistis rolled her eyes and hung a clean town on a rack next to the sink.

"Clean yourself up and then we can talk." She slammed the door behind her as she marched out of the bathroom.

The truth was, Seifer was all too eager to put on some clean clothes. He stripped off his filthy, blood-stained, matted clothing and piled it in a heap on the bathroom floor while he started the water running for a bath. Nothing sounded more alluring than soaking his leg in some hot water and it had been months since he'd been able to have a good soak in a bathtub. It used to be a luxury he took for granted every day when he was the sorceress' knight, with no shortage of beautiful Galbadian women offering themselves to him whenever he felt like it.

When was the last time he really came and enjoyed it?

The tub was soon filled to the brim with water so hot that steam rose from it in tendrils. He stepped into it and even though it scalded his skin, he didn't wince or draw back. It felt good, like it was burning away the layer of grime caked on his skin. The water was cloudy with filth in seconds.

He lay there for some time letting the heat envelop his body and sooth his aching wounds. He massaged his leg and then began to scrub himself with a bar of soap. He scrubbed and scrubbed until his skin was raw and red and he was sure all the grime was gone. He did the same with his hair, rinsing and scrubbing repeatedly, pulling at tangles and bringing clumps of hair with each tug.

For nearly an hour he sat there scrubbing and soaking before he finally rinsed off beneath the showerhead and stepped out of the tub. The boxers and sweatpants Quistis had given him managed to fit thanks to the elastic waist, but the t-shirt wasn't going to happen. He heard a tearing sound at the first attempt to put it over his head and quit while he was ahead.

Finally, he emerged from the bathroom, a cloud of steam following him out. Quistis was sitting on her couch reading a book about battle tactics, but she looked up right away at his entrance, eyes narrowed.

"You were in there for a long time."

"I was dirty," Seifer shrugged. "What should I do with these?" He held forward his filthy clothes.

"Throw them out. They're falling apart. Washing them won't do any good," Quistis curled her lip in disgust at the sight of the rotting clothes.

"I can't get rid of my trenchcoat. I've had it for 5 years!"

"I'll buy you a new trenchcoat. Hyne, Seifer. I'm not keeping that thing in my apartment. If you're going to stay here, you have to follow my rules! Throw those clothes in the trash."

Seifer scowled and skulked across the room to the garbage, depositing his clothes unhappily inside the can.

"Nida's shirt didn't fit."

"I can see that," Quistis eyed him up and down disapprovingly.

His gut hung over the sweatpants and two small breasts were growing where he had once had pronounced pectorals. His arms had grown flabby.

"Irvine should be bringing some clothes by tonight. You can probably fit into those. Tomorrow I don't have class to teach so I thought we could go into town and get you cleaned up? Get a haircut, maybe a new trenchcoat? Raijin and Fujin might…"

"I don't want to see them," Seifer turned his head.

"I was going to say they might want to hear from you. They're living in Deling City now. They've been helping to rebuild areas of Galbadia affected by the war. Maybe you could give them a ring later too."

Seifer shook his head. "I'm not interested. Look, let's not act like you really want to help me, because I know you don't. I'm only here because it sounded better than jail and you can't really keep me here for long. So if you don't mind, I'm going to get some sleep because I can't drink and I don't know what else will stop this fucking headache I've got. You can cut the caring teacher crap. It didn't work when I was your student and it sure as hell won't work now."

He stormed into the spare room and slammed the door behind him.

"What the hell have I agreed to?" Quistis sighed. She didn't have time to worry about Seifer acting like a petulant child or to pretend he wasn't right. She didn't really care what happened to him, only that she cared about Rinoa and Rinoa cared about him for some reason.

At any rate, she had a class to get to. So she turned and left, locking Seifer inside the apartment on her way out.


End file.
